


rearrange us (it seems like a short life)

by nolanpatty



Series: rearrange us [2]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2020 NHL Playoffs Bubble, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Very light not dramatic jealousy haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:41:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26124400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nolanpatty/pseuds/nolanpatty
Summary: “You got a girl you’re wanting to bring in or something?” Nolan asks, still just so fucking confused and so fucking tired.“No, Pats,” Carter huffs, and Nolan can feel the eye roll through the phone. “I want you to come to bubble you idiot.”Nolan blinks. Once. Twice. Three times.“What?”
Relationships: Nolan Patrick & Carter Hart, Platonic on the second one, Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick
Series: rearrange us [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2151537
Comments: 23
Kudos: 322
Collections: NHL Hotel Hoedown 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [fightingfuries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightingfuries/pseuds/fightingfuries) in the [HotelHoedown](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HotelHoedown) collection. 



> Title in honor of Nolan's love for Mt. Joy and their most recent release Rearrange Us check it out! :)
> 
> **Prompt:**
> 
> apparently players are now allowed to bring a 'established longstanding personal friend' into the bubble with them: https://twitter.com/wojespn/status/1293537346550472710?s=20 and I would like some tk/patty about it please :)
> 
> [EDIT: i have just been informed this was referring to the nba bubble but in my heart it's about the nhl so suck it]
> 
> assorted thoughts about this (feel free to use or ignore): everyone else thinks they're dating or finally going public, furious strip monopoly (ft. kevin hayes), not enough rooms in hotel x and there was only 1 bed, patty doing wag stuff with the (other) wags, someone else chooses patty as his personal friend first and tk is Not Jealous

It comes completely unexpectedly, and unfortunately at two in the morning, but Nolan picks up the phone anyway. Rolling over on his bed, he answers with a gruff, “Yeah?” not even bothering to check caller ID. It was fucking two in the goddamn morning, if someone was calling him it better be for a good reason.

“Patty?” He hears a tentative, quiet voice on the other side of his phone that sounds an awful lot like-

“Carter?” Nolan mumbles through his sleep.

“Uh, yeah,” Carter says, and Nolan can tell he’s smiling, “Hey, sorry if it’s late. Shit, I forgot about the time zones, man I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Nolan speaks quieter than usual in his sleep mussed form. “What’s up?”

“Oh, uh, yeah right,” Carter exclaims as though he’d completely forgotten he was the one who’d started the phone call, “Man, so we won! Against the habs I mean. Shit, we’re going to round two, Pats!”

The excitement in his voice is palpable, and it makes Nolan ache in that familiar way he’s been aching for the last year. That incessant need to play good hockey. It ebbs and flows depending on the day, but lately it seems to be more heightened with the boys in the bubble. The entire hockey world completely focused on one thing, and he can’t have a single part in it. He curses his head for the millionth time. Mostly, he tries not to take pity on himself, it’s a useless emotion after all, but it’s two in the morning, he wasn’t necessarily going to be making the best decisions.

“Congrats, man,” Patty finally mutters a couple seconds too late, “Happy for you guys.”

The thing is, he _is_ happy for the guys. That’s his team. His family. His fucking world. He’s just not happy for himself. 

Carter’s quiet for a moment, like maybe he knows all of Patty’s thoughts. It makes his skin crawl a bit, thinking someone can read his emotions even through a phone call. Patty hates being known. Hates people who _understand_ him. He much prefers the oblivion that hockey players usually give off. Unfortunately for Nolan, the Flyers are not the usual breed of hockey players. They are a group of misfit guys, who care for each other deeply, have grafted roots into each others lives, and stick together through the good, bad, and the really fucking ugly. 

Nolan knows this explicitly. 

So yeah, Nolan hates being known, but he is slowly coming to terms with his new life of being overly known by a whole team of guys who care about him.

“So, the big wigs in the league announced something new, like literally just a few minutes ago,” Carter eventually states.

Nolan makes a sound like a hum at this odd topic change and just says, “Oh yeah?” Because he’s still not really sure why Carter is calling him, or what he’s even talking about. 

“Yeah,” Carter coughs a bit uncomfortably, making Nolan’s brows furrow in confusion, “So like, okay, it’s a bit weird, but don’t take it the wrong way okay?” Carter rushes out. Nolan notices now that the little lilt in Carter’s voice is nervousness.

“Okay,” he draws the word out slowly. 

“They’re calling it Long Standing Established Friends,” Carter says, as if Nolan’s supposed to know what those words mean exactly. “The league, I mean. They’re opening up the bubble, Pats.” 

And now Nolan is just so completely confused, and he remembers its two in the fucking morning. This really couldn’t have waited like five or six hours? 

“Uh, okay?” 

“Every player can bring someone into the bubble, a long standing established friend,” he says to Nolan like he’s excited about this prospect. Nolan guesses it makes sense, the team can get fucking annoying sometimes when everyone’s breathing down each others necks with no one else as an outlet outside of the team. 

“Okay?” He says for the third time. 

Carter huffs out a frustrated sigh, “It’s like girlfriends or wives mostly.”

“You got a girl you’re wanting to bring in or something?” Nolan asks, still just so fucking confused and so fucking tired. 

“No, Pats,” Carter huffs, and Nolan can feel the eye roll through the phone. “I want you to come to bubble you idiot.”

Nolan blinks. Once. Twice. Three times. 

“What?”

“You’re a long standing established friend.” Carter supplies.

“Uh, Carter, I don’t know if you know this man, but we aren’t dating.”

Carter laughs, like actually full body, shrieks of laughter. Nolan is only a bit wounded because dating him would not be that funny, thank you. He rolls his eyes at Carter.

“I know you dumbass, but the league didn’t specify romantic friendships. So, I want you to come man. The guys fucking miss you, even if none of them will tell you. They’re too scared of making you upset since you’re not here, but man we want you here. Even if you can’t play.”

Nolan huffs, it’s really early to make such big decisions. And Nolan’s never been exactly intelligent when he’s tired, or even when he’s awake really. The thousands of reasons there probably are to not go to the bubble in the middle of a global pandemic just doesn’t come to mind. All he can think is, he could watch playoff hockey live. He could watch his boys lift the Stanley Cup over their heads in person instead of on TV. And it won’t occur to him until much later on, how fucking painful that scenario actually would be, but right now he just thinks _proud proud proud proud._

He’s only a little surprises when he tells Carter, “Fuck, yeah, okay,” without even pausing for a moment to think it through.

\---

Nolan has to clear three days of COVID tests before he’s allowed to enter the bubble, and when he finally does enter, he is given a Established Long-Standing Friendship pass, which literally has the word “ELF” on it. This is to differentiate between the players and non players, which was just another great reminder of what Nolan is missing. He shoots off a text to Carter that he is in some makeshift tent getting a throat swab and his temperature checked. Carter tells him he knows exactly where he is, and that he’d be there in a few to meet him. 

When Nolan is ushered out of the weird tent and back into the hotel lobby, he finds Carter pretty quickly. The onslaught of fondness that fills his chest is a bit unexpected for Nolan. He realizes, as Carter grabs him into a hug, just how much he’s missed not just Carter but all these guys. 

“Hey man,” Nolan greets Carter.

“Hey,” he offers Nolan a fist bump as he pulls out of the hug. “So fucking good to see you.”

“You too,” Nolan says, offering only half a smile. 

“C’mon,” Carter turns and leads Nolan further into the hotel, “most of the guys are in G’s room playing a massive CoD tournament before Ryanne and Gavin arrive tomorrow.”

“Nice.” Nolan grumbles happily.

“Dude, they’re gonna be so fucking pumped to see you.”

Nolan doesn’t respond, but follows Carter quietly, listening to the roll of his suitcase against the tiled floor. The hotel is pretty fancy compared to the ones the team normally stay in, but he’s not entirely surprised. It’s housing dozens of millionaires, and paid for by a multi billion dollar industry. Nolan’s pretty sure they could afford nice shit for a couple months. He doesn’t know a whole lot about bubble life because Carter had been right about the guys, they’d mostly left him alone since getting into the bubble. He’d guessed it was a mixture of just being busy with back to back games constantly but, also, the part of him not being there really sucked. It’s not like he’s upset with the team for doing it. He totally understands, and would probably feel the same way too in their shoes. But, from Nolan’s position, it had felt a bit like being ghosted by thirty people all at once and the instant silence in Nolan’s life had been a little jarring. 

It’s not like he’d expected all the guys to talk to him everyday, but he also hadn’t expected for Travis of all people to stop talking to him. That one stung the most honestly because Travis had always been the guy that was there for him during his recovery time. He’d stuck by his side through the concussions and then through the migraines. He’d never treated him differently or carefully, always still chirping him to the ends of the earth. He’d never left Nolan through any of it. This, this has him feeling a bit being left behind. 

It becomes excruciatingly clear that Carter did not tell a single person that Nolan was coming- except like the actual essential people required to know he is bringing another person into the bubble- the moment they step into G’s hotel room. It’s packed full of players, and initially when they enter the room, no one really pays attention. They’re all honed in on their TV, chirping the guys who were playing, when someone notices Carter over their shoulder at a quick glance.

“Cahtah,” Haysie says, “did you bring back some water bottles for us?”

“Nah, brought something better,” he says to Kevin, which makes him look away from the TV in curiosity. 

His eyes land on Nolan, and this surprised, “Oh,” slips out of his lips. 

Nolan swallows thickly. He pushes the handle of his suitcase down, which apparently is more attention grabbing then the door slamming shut because suddenly there’s about twenty five pairs of eyes on Nolan. 

“What?” He hears Coots say in confusion.

“Uh, hey,” G says, incredibly awkwardly. 

Nolan feels his stomach fall when Travis catches his eye and just says nothing. He just blinks at him for a moment, looks at Carter, then back at Nolan, and then to the TV.

G somehow manages to pause the game, and then everyone’s asking questions all at once. It feels a bit like a press conference, and Nolan feels himself slipping into gruff, media Nolan Patrick mode. Like he’s ready to fight off stupid questions and stick up for the plays he’s made. He’s not supposed to feel like that here. Not with these guys. He takes a subconscious step back, away from Carter, toward the door.

Carter notices instantly, of course he does, and is right by Nolan’s side. He pushes him forward just a bit, in an encouraging way.

“Okay, first off, everyone shut up,” Carter says with an authority that Nolan hadn’t known he possessed. “Second off, say hi instead of being fucking dickwards, maybe.”

G’s the first one to come out of the confusion and he turns full captain mode on Nolan.

He pulls him into a hug and says, “Hey Patty, it’s so good to see you man.” 

At least that feels normal, and Nolan feels himself relax just a touch in G’s embrace.

They pull away and G begins again, “Sorry, I think we’re all just really confused. Definitely glad to see you here though, but like, what’s going on?” He looks at Carter, and around at the other boys as well, who are now humming their agreements. 

“Well, the league said we could bring in established friends, so I called Patty.” Carter shrugs, as easy as ever.

G looks at Carter, baffled, “I mean, that was for like significant others, though, right?” And he looks back at Nolan, clearly assessing the two of them. Nolan feels the skin at the back of his neck crawling and his cheeks heating in the way he knows he’d normally be chirped for. 

He’s pretty sure he isn’t about to get chirped. 

Carter just shrugs again, “Eh, take the term established long standing friend as you will, I guess. I took it as is, let’s get Patty in the fucking bubble!” 

“Right.” G says, clearly still appraising, but also relenting for the time being. “We’re happy to have you back, Patso.” He smiles and claps Patty on the shoulder. 

“Yeah,” Nolan mumbles for the first time since stepping foot into the room. The boys seem to get the signal that they’re all moving on now, and the game resumes. Nolan awkwardly finds his way to a couch towards the side, pretty far away from the TV. Joel and Ghost are sitting next to him, and they’re normal enough, but Nolan still can’t get his shoulders to relax because he can feel eyes on him. 

At first, it’s just like a glance here and there, and that’s fine or whatever. He can handle a little bit of unwanted attention, but then he feels Trav burning fucking holes into Nolan’s skin with his eyes. And it’s just not _cool._ He hates that there’s some sort of residual tension between the two of them, but it’s not like it’s his fault. Teeks is the one who’d stopped texting back, not Patty. Patty had sent him a fucking snapchat for godssake, surely TK knew how desperate he was for interaction at that point. But he’d still opened it, and Nolan hadn’t gotten anything back. He’d texted them after their first round robin win. Then again at the second. After the third, he just gave up. Message received, and all that.

Maybe a part of Nolan wants to be mad at Travis. But mostly he was just hurt, this small feeling of abandonment sitting somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach. But whatever it doesn’t matter, Carter found him and offered his hand like it was a life preserver. Nolan is happy to take it, even if he’s realizing it wasn’t the best decision. Maybe, it was less of a life preserver and more of an anchor pulling him down to the bottom, just aiding the process, rather than saving him. 

\---

Ryanne and Gavin sit with Nolan in the players box to watch game one against the Isles. She’s normal and safe in a way the guys haven’t been, even at breakfast that morning. It feels nice, chatting with her about life. Seeing how Gavin has changed over the last few months and catching up on all the things they’d been doing since G had left for the bubble a month ago. Ryanne is constant, and she isn’t treating him weird or like he isn’t supposed to be there. He appreciates it. She even lets him hold Gavin for a while which gives him a pretty easy distraction from his current predicament. 

Overall, it’s a nice night, watching hockey and chatting with a few friends. Once the game gets started, he gets lost in the play by play and the reffing that still fucking sucks. They’ve been shitty all throughout the bubble, both in Edmonton and Toronto, and it’s starting to get fucking ridiculous at this point. But, despite it all, the boys pull through and just barely skate out with the game one win scoring 2-1. 

It’s exciting to experience that win, knowing they are one game closer to a conference finals, or the fucking cup even, but he knows the feeling of winning on the ice, and nothing can rival that. The feeling of Teeks slamming into his body, of bumping helmets with Carter, slapping Beezer on the shoulder. It just doesn’t get better than that, and Nolan feels that familiar ache creep in again as he watches the guys he loves celebrate without him.

“You’ll be there soon, Nolan,” Ryanne says quietly, like she knows what he’s feeling. 

Nolan sighs, shrugs, “It’s fine. I’m used to it by now.”

He’s not though. He thought he would be. Turns out it’s not a thing you ever get use to, not even after sitting out an entire season on IR. 

Ryanne looks like she gets that too, though, so she just squeezes his hand lightly, then pulls Gavin into her arms. “Come on,” she nods to the door, “Let’s go find our boys, shall we?” 

Nolan tries to smile. He’s really thankful for people like Ryanne, even if he’s pretty much incapable of voicing emotions like that. 

Finding the dressing room down the maze of hallways is a bit more challenging than either of them probably anticipated, but, nevertheless, they persist and find it eventually. Ryanne enters first, hollering, “Y’all better be decent,” before she steps in. 

A couple of the guys whistle at her for show, she rolls her eyes, and finds Claude. They kiss, and mumble to each other a bit before Claude takes Gavin into his arms. He looks so happy. Nolan feels jealousy flaring up in his stomach. He’s not really sure why. It doesn’t make any sense to him, so he pushes that emotion down and ignores it. 

Nolan hovers in the doorway, unsure what to do when he doesn’t have a stall or gear to rip off. Carter hip checks him as he goes by, and Nolan’s lip quirks up just a touch. “Nice game,” he mumbles.

“Thanks man,” Carter smiles wide, and ruffles Nolan’s hair. Nolan swiftly pulls his head out of Carter’s reach and scoffs at him.

“Get the fuck off me.”

Carter just smiles and continues with his own routine. 

It’s weird because Nolan’s own usual locker routine consists of dancing with TK like utter idiots, sitting in a stall next to TK, and talking to TK. His whole routine revolves around TK, so, now, being in a dressing room where TK’s all the way across the room, not talking to him, feels so wrong. Nolan tries to remind himself he’s played hockey for years without Teeks. He was the captain for the Wheat Kings for fucks sake. He knows how to do hockey, life even, without Travis Konecny. 

Yet, he still hovers uncomfortably like he doesn’t.

The uneasiness settles in his stomach, and Nolan wonders if it’s going to get any better. If his whole time in the bubble will be like this. He considers if he should just go home. Really, almost anything would be better than whatever the fuck this is. 

He’s about two seconds away from turning around and hightailing it to his hotel room, when he sees Travis moving out of the corner of his eye. He’s headed his way, and Nolan knows better than to assume. Knows better than to hold his breath. Knows better than to hope, but he does it all anyway. He turns to Travis, locks eyes with him as if to say _I see you, please don’t ignore me this time._ And Travis, he must _get_ that because he stops in front of Nolan. He doesn’t say anything, just stares for a moment and considers Nolan. Nolan tracks Trav’s eyes as they search his face, and he wonders what Travis is looking for. 

“Hi,” Nolan eventually breaks the silence.

“Hi.” 

“Good game,” Nolan offers, hoping it serves as some form of olive branch between the two.

Travis scoffs, and Nolan feels his gut sink. “Didn’t even get an assist.”

“Still played well,” Nolan offers.

Travis rolls his eyes, and Nolan can see now just how frustrated with himself he is. He can see the barely contained rage that’s beneath the surface, and he wonders how long Travis has been holding onto it, just barely escaping tragedy each time he doesn’t explode. 

“You’ve got to be able to find success outside of points, you know that.”

Travis grumbles, “Yeah, thanks dad.”

Nolan rolls his own eyes, “Fuck you, you know I’m right, Teeks.” 

And _this_ , god, this feels normal to Patty. The chirps rolling off his tongue like second nature, the give and the take of their weird co-dependent relationship. 

Travis must feel it too, as he makes this odd huffing sound that sounds close to relief. “Missed you,” he sighs, pulling Nolan down into an uncomfortably positioned hug. 

Nolan doesn’t respond, only hugs Travis back and thinks, maybe, he could stay here a bit longer.

\---

The team has another off day before back to back games for round two. Most of the guys are choosing to take the lazy route, watching Netflix, sleeping late, just allowing their bodies to recover before having to pick it back up for the tough back to backs. Carter invites Nolan over to watch some new Netflix series he’s discovered while in the bubble, and Nolan figures he has absolutely nothing better to do with his time anyway. 

Chilling with Carter like this isn’t exactly new, Carter has always been one of the guys who’d reach out more often than not while Patty was stuck on IR. He’s always made an effort to remind Patty that he is part of the team, even if he isn’t on the ice with them. It’s nice having people like Carter surround him, comfortable in a way that Patty isn’t familiar with. As the captain on the Wheat Kings, he’d played the role of protector and helper for his teammates. He was the one in charge of reaching out to people, and sure the guys were his friends, but those guys never looked after Patty like his teammates now do. It’ssomething Nolan had hated at first. He’d convinced himself that he wanted to be left alone more often than not, but the guys never gave him the choice. Teeks was always showing up at his place uninvited, talking nonstop, and, eventually, they were just living out of each other's pockets. Everything with the team just became second nature to Nolan after that.

Two episodes into Outer Banks, which Nolan’s pretty sure is geared towards teenagers, but he doesn’t say anything to Carter about that, when someone knocks on Carter’s door. 

“You want me to get it?” Nolan asks when Carter doesn’t move to get up, his eyes glued to the television. 

“Sure.” Carter says, not even looking at Nolan.

Nolan stands from his seat on the couch and goes to answer the door, just as there’s a second knock sounding. Travis is standing there as he opens the door, hand raised as if he’s going to knock a third time in less than a minute. 

“Oh.” Travis says, as he looks at Nolan. Travis looks behind him, then at the door number, confused. “I’m- I thought,” he stumbles for a second, looking back at Nolan, “Carter?” he eventually asks.

Nolan almost snorts, “Yeah, he’s here.” He steps aside, letting Travis enter the room. 

Travis looks at Carter, who’s splayed out on his bed watching the movie. 

“What are you doing here?” Travis asks Nolan.

Nolan shrugs, “Just chilling,” He walks past TK and sits back down on the small couch. 

“Oh, okay.”

“Hey Teeks,” Carter says, but doesn’t offer any more attention than that.

Travis hovers awkwardly for a couple minutes, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched making himself look smaller than he already is. 

“You gonna stand there all day, or what?” Nolan eventually mutters. 

“Oh, um, no, I guess not.” Travis says before he sits down on the floor, in the exact same spot he was standing.

Patty actually does snort this time, “What the fuck, Teeks, you don’t gotta sit on the fucking floor.”

Travis looks at him, confused, like he somehow thought the floor was the only logical answer. Nolan really doesn’t know what to do with Travis right now, so he just gestures to the space on the couch next to him. After an long moment of deliberation, which really doesn’t seem necessary when the choices are the couch or the fucking floor, TK finally stands up and moves over to the couch. He huddles up against the furthest cushion from Nolan, leaving what felt like a mile of space between them.

They sit in uncomfortable silence, Carter completely unaware, until the second episode ends. Carter finally comes out of his Outer Banks tunnel vision for a moment to talk.

“What’s up, Teeks?”

Travis shrugs, “Oh, uh, nothing I guess. Just came to talk, but I didn’t realize Nolan would be here so,” he shrugs again awkwardly. 

Nolan bites his bottom lip, and wishes he could disappear. Carter doesn’t seem to notice.

“Oh,” he matches Travis’ shrug, “Well, it’d be pretty shitty of me to bring him into the bubble and then leave him alone the whole time, ya know?”

Nolan watches Travis as he responds, “Guess so.” His whole body is stiff, cheeks flushed. Patty bites down on his lip harder and tries again to make himself invisible. 

“I can go?” Nolan eventually offers, looking straight forward, not meeting either of the guys’ eyes, “if you wanna like, talk, or whatever,” he offers with a shrug.

“You don’t have to—” 

“It’s fine, really—” Carter and Travis speak in unison. 

Nolan’s shoulders stiffens uncomfortably. He scratches at the back of his neck before deciding to stand up, “No, really, it’s okay,” he’s quieter than usual. “Trav obviously has something he needs to talk about, so it’s fine.” Nolan doesn’t even allow the two time to respond because he’d rather not hear anything anyway, so he leaves as quickly as possible. 

He decides what he really needs is a workout to help clear his head, maybe. After some time back in his own room, he decides on a swim. Nolan heads out to the rooftop pool in his trunks and a tank top. He’s got a towel in one arm. He waits for the elevator for a moment when he sees Haysie walk past him.

“Headed to the pool?” He asks.

“Yup,” Nolan mumbles.

“Nice. Have fun!” 

Nolan doesn’t respond as the elevator opens and he steps in as quickly as possible. 

When he reaches the pool, he jumps in unceremoniously, gets lost in the feeling of ice cold water on his skin. As he comes up for air, he treads easily over to the edge of the pool. He positions himself on the side to push off and start a lap. Nolan’s never been a big swimmer, but that was nice in it’s own way. Swimming laps never comes as naturally as skating does. With swimming, he has to focus on his movements to keep them fluid and strong. He grows tired quicker because he’s using his muscles in a way that is unfamiliar to his body, but it makes him push himself harder. He lets his mind fall blank as he falls into the pattern down the length of the pool, turn, back the length of the pool, turn, down, turn, back, turn. Easy. 

Nolan doesn’t think about hockey for a blissful hour. He doesn’t think about Travis or the team, or the way he suddenly doesn’t _fit_ anymore. He doesn’t think about the upcoming season and what it means to him as an injured player. He doesn’t think about the possibility of him getting traded and being put on some fourth line of a shitty team, when he could be second line with his own team. He doesn’t think about migraines or concussions or therapy or medications or timelines. 

He just swims. 

It isn’t until he comes up for air about an hour later, throws his arms over the side of the pool and shakes his hair out that he sees him. Travis is sitting not too far away in a pool chair looking, no _staring_ , at Nolan. Nolan locks eyes with Travis and thinks maybe this is it. Maybe this is the moment he should confront Travis about the way he’s been acting. He blinks first, and then remembers, he doesn’t ever confront Travis about anything. Travis is the confronter. The brass, loud personality that never shuts up, never has a problem saying everything that’s on his mind even if Nolan had never asked or wanted to hear it. Nolan’s never gone so long without hearing one of Travis’ rants, not since meeting him three years ago. 

Nolan pushes himself out of the pool, to the side and keeps his feet dangling over the edge. He turns his back to Travis, but he can still feel him looking. It makes his thoughts spiral out of control faster than ever before and his body tense up. He aches for the easy bickering they have with each other. Wishes he could have it back. He just can’t figure out what he did wrong to make Travis act this way. 

Eventually, Travis comes over and sits himself down onto the concrete next to Nolan. His feet dangle into the pool next to Nolan, and he kicks Nolan’s feet gently.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey.” Nolan says back.

“Sorry about earlier.” Travis offers.

Nolan doesn’t respond, just looks at the water. 

“Didn’t mean to be so weird about everything, I just-” He runs a hand through his hair before gripping the edge of the pool like a lifeline, “Just, uh, didn’t know you were gonna be there, ya know?”

“Sure.” Nolan says nonchalant. 

Travis sighs, curls in on himself a little, and waits for a moment. The silence is almost unbearable for Nolan, and Nolan fucking loves silence. Lives for it. Thrives off it. But this is suffocating. He can’t imagine what Teeks is feeling, he must be feeling smothered alive by the weight of this heavy silence. 

Nolan considers breaking the silence first. Considers asking all the questions running through his head. _Why’d you stop answering me? Why are you being so weird about everything? What did you need to talk to Carter about? Why don’t you want to talk to me about it instead? What did I do?_ He doesn’t ask any of them because he thinks, maybe, he’d rather not know the answers. Rather not know that a year without Nolan on the team actually just makes Travis realize how disposable he really is. Everyone is saying it. He was the big draft bust. The injury prone player who has never made it through a full season. He isn’t worth much to anyone, and Travis obviously finally caught on. 

Nolan doesn’t want to hear any of that. 

“So, you and Carter,” Travis starts off, uncomfortable. 

Nolan looks at Travis, confused. “What?”

“You two?” Teeks asks again, “Are you like…” he trails off.

Nolan rolls his neck from one side to the other, giving Travis time to complete his question, but when he never does Nolan eventually says, “Can’t read your mind here, Teeks.”

“Right,” Travis says, apologetic. He pauses again, throws a quick glance at Nolan before looking back at the water. “Are you guys like...together?” He eventually asks then rushes out, “Cus it’s, like, cool if you are, ya know? I mean, I’m cool with that or whatever.” He’s rambling, and Nolan feels a blush rising on his cheeks. He shoves Travis’ shoulder hard to get him to shut up.

“No.” he says simply.

“No?” Travis repeats.

“No.” Nolan confirms. 

“No, like you aren’t together.”

“Yes.” 

“Okay.” Travis says, and something about him relaxes a touch. 

They fall into another silence, though it’s not quite as suffocating as the first one. 

“Okay, that’s cool.” Travis eventually says. 

Nolan lets out a quiet laugh, “Okay, that’s cool,” he mimics. Travis squeaks out this offended noise and shoves Nolan’s shoulder again. Nolan laughs again and looks at Travis, “Dude, you just said it’d be cool if we were together, then said it was cool that we weren’t together. You’re a fucking idiot.”

Travis sputters out indignantly, “Take that back.”

“No.” Nolan mumbles, with a barely contained smile on his lips.

“Take it fucking back, Nolan Patrick!” Travis says as he pinches Nolan’s stomach.

“Get the fuck off me, Teeks.” Nolan shoves his hand away from him. 

“Not until you take it back!” Travis hollers, trying to put Nolan in a headlock.

Nolan easily pushes him away saying, “Sorry, you are an idiot. Also,” Nolan lets out a quick laugh, “Did you forget how fucking small your are? Trying to put me in a headlock my god, you’ll get yourself killed on the ice if you’re acting like that. I could throw you in this pool right now if I wanted.”

Travis scoffs, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I might,” Nolan muses, but he doesn’t move. 

“You're an asshole, Nolan Patrick.” Travis says with no real fire in his words.

“Okay, Travis Konecny.” Nolan mocks him.

Travis shoves him again, and they settle down again for only a moment before Travis starts talking again.

“I just thought, like since he asked you to come to the bubble, that it meant something, ya know?” He doesn’t actually offer Nolan a chance to respond, “And, well, if it meant something, and you hadn’t told me about that?” Travis shrugs, “I thought, like, surely you’d be comfortable telling me something that important, right? Even if it was about a teammate?” Travis lets out a huff. 

Nolan stays quiet, considering Travis’ words. Travis’ nervous energy next to him seems to be multiplying though, as he picks at a piece of dry skin on his hand. 

“You would tell me, right?” Travis eventually asks. 

Nolan shrugs. It’s not like he would have dated any of the guys anyway, so he’s not really sure what the big deal here is. Even if he had been, he’s unsure if he _would_ tell Travis because Travis hasn’t talked to him in two months. He’s not really sure about _anything_ when it comes to Travis lately. That thought hits Nolan a bit suddenly, like he hadn’t realized just how off kilter he’d felt about Travis. How Travis had somehow gone from the most solid relationship in his life to this mess of confusion that was entirely unreliable. 

“I don’t know,” Nolan finally admits.

“What?” Hurt leaks out of Travis’ voice, and it makes a part of Nolan want to shrivel up and die. 

“We haven’t talked in two months, man,” Nolan mumbles. He really hates admitting that it _matters_. He really hates to be the one who has to sit here and say that maybe he’s hurt. “I don’t know what I’d tell you right now.”

“Oh,” Travis stutters. “I-” he starts, but never finishes.

Nolan shrugs, “It’s fine man. No one’s talking to me, isn’t just you.” The reality of his words sit heavy in his throat, and he just hates fucking with emotions. 

“That’s not fine,” Travis eventually whispers into the space between them.

“It is what it is.” Nolan mumbles, swinging his feet out of the water and moving to grab his towel. 

Travis follows after him, grabbing his own things.

“It wasn’t a fucking invite for you to follow me,” He spits out. He doesn’t mean for it to come out so harsh, doesn’t mean for his anger to leak out like that, but it does anyway. 

Travis stops in his tracks, and Nolan thinks, _fucking good._ But just as quickly as he’d stopped, Travis is running to catch up to Nolan.

“Never needed an invitation before, so fuck that anyway.” Travis says.

And well, he’s not wrong. 

Nolan just rolls his eyes, keeps his feet moving and gets back to his room as quickly as possible. He towels off and changes into sweats, not even bothering a glance at Travis while he does. Nolan eventually settles onto his bed. Travis turns to him, arms crossed and all puffed up agitation. 

“So, are we going to talk now?” Travis asks, frustration lacing his words.

“I don’t know, Teeks, are we?” Nolan asks, crossing his arms as he sits up against the headboard.

“Oh, don’t give me that passive aggressive shit, Patty.”

“What do you want me to fucking say, Travis?” Nolan shouts, full anger on display now. “I don’t know what to say to you, when you’ve ignored everything I’ve tried to say in the last two months.”

Travis deflates just as quickly as he gets riled up, which is just like him to fill his hot head just to curl in on himself when someone yells back at him. He sits at the foot of Nolan’s bed and stares at his hands, “It’s not like I did it on purpose.” 

Nolan takes a single breath and with the exhale, feels his anger towards Travis dissipate to a quiet thrum in the back of his mind. He sighs and wonders why Travis looks so unsure of himself. “How am I supposed to know that?” Nolan asks, genuinely curious. 

Travis shrugs, “It’s just,” he rolls his neck, “Bubble hockey kind of fucking sucks, man.” 

“Okay,” Nolan says, unsure. 

“Like, sure, at first,” Travis starts, “I felt a bit weird about being back and you not being here, right? I didn’t want to rub it in or make the dynamic all weird, right? But then I was like three games in, four games is, fucking five games in, and I hadn’t made a single fucking goal? One measly assist? And fucking minus 3?” He lays on his back across the bed, “It fucking sucks. I”m playing the worst hockey of my life.”

“At least you’re playing,” Nolan mumbles. And he doesn’t mean for it to sound bitter, but maybe it does. 

Travis turns to look at him, his face sad and soft around the edges, “I know, and that’s why I couldn’t talk to you. Because what am I gonna say? That it’d be better if I weren’t playing when I know you’re fucking dying to be on the ice even with a minus three?” 

And, okay, well maybe that makes sense to Nolan, even if it still sucks. 

Nolan takes a deep breath, “Okay, I can see where you’re coming from,” he says diplomatically, “But just, from my perspective, it really fucking sucks when your best friend stops talking to you for months without any reasoning, while you’re already, like, having a shitty time.” 

Travis reaches an arm over, wrapping his fingers around around Nolan’s ankle. “I get that. I’m sorry.” 

Nolan shrugs, and then finally says, “Can’t believe you actually thought I was fucking around with Carter, though.”

Travis squawks indignantly, “You’re such a fucking asshole.”

“Can’t believe you thought I’d cheat on our old marriage status like that,” Nolan laughs, big and loud, in that way that makes Travis’ face light up like he’s won some prize. Nolan likes that look on Travis.

Teeks shoves Nolan’s ankle. “You could never leave me, baby,” he mocks.

Patty smirks, “Probably not.” 

Teeks smiles, and Patty’s heart settles a bit at the feeling of normalcy being restored around him. 

\---

The guys lose game two against the Isles, but come back in game 3 with a massive shutout win. Classic Flyers style, both Nolan and Ryanne agree. It’s Carter’s third career playoff shutout, which is a pretty big deal, and the guys have the next day off. So, everyone goes out for a few drinks afterwards to celebrate. 

“To the beast, Cahtah Haht,” Haysie shouts as everyone raises a glass to Carter. 

Travis is nestled between the wall and Nolan on one side of a booth, and it feels like they’re finally back to normal with Travis ranting at the speed of light, while Nolan only half listens. He’s learned over the years with Travis how to find the right moments to respond without actually listening to what he’s talking about because his voice ticks up just a hint when he’s searching for an answer. Travis had been pretty annoying when they’d first met, but now his rants are calming white noise for Nolan’s frantic brain. 

They settle into the back and forth bickering that they always do as they slowly sip at their drinks together. And really, it’s completely by habit of roadies ingrained into Nolan’s brain that he follows Travis back to his room before he realizes they aren’t sharing a room because this isn’t a roadie. But Travis doesn’t even seem to notice, seems to know Nolan would have come back with him no matter what. 

They settle together on the bed like always, play a round of CoD like it’s normal, and snack on foods Travis has in a drawer like Nolan was never gone to begin with. It’s nice, is all, and Nolan just really loves Travis Konecny, like, a lot. Loves his smug personality and his angry chirping and loud mouth. He loves everything about him, really. 

Maybe, _maybe,_ he’s missed him. 

Nolan settles into himself a bit easier with Travis around, leans into his side a bit while they lounge on the bed messing around on the Xbox. 

“Kinda missed you,” Nolan eventually mumbles, unprompted.

Teeks busts out in laughter, “Kinda? Wow, don’t flatter me too much, Patso.” 

Patty shoves him a bit, but still settles back into his side. “You make a great travel sized pillow,” Nolan chirps him. 

Trav scoffs, “Oh, fuck off, you love me. You’d be lost without me,” he sings. 

“Yeah probably,” Nolan mumbles.

“Oh, Pats,” Travis coos, still mostly kidding, he pats Nolan’s head in the way he absolutely hates, “Didn’t know what to do with yourself for the last two months without me, did ya?” 

“Get the fuck off me, ya nerd,” Nolan says, pulling his head away from Teeks’ grip, but he’s still smiling.

“Ah, babe,” Teeks says obnoxiously, “Using my own chirps, how cute.”

“Shut the fuck up, I hate you.” Nolan mumbles, crossing his arms.

“Nah,” Travis bumps his shoulder, “You love me, already said it, no take backs.”

“No take backs,” Nolan mutters, “What are you five?” 

“Absolutely.” Trav says with excitement. 

Nolan rolls his eyes, while Travis grins manically. They go silent for a minute, each of them just catching glances occasionally. Travis settles a bit, calming his body, while Nolan resituates a few times to find a comfortable position where he’s mostly lying but still able to see the TV. 

“Hey,” Trav says more seriously. He bumps his hand against Nolan’s. He catches Nolan’s eye before saying, “I won’t leave you like that again, okay?” 

Nolan bites his lip. It’s not like he was waiting for Travis to reassure him or anything, that would be pretty silly, but _maybe_ he’d wanted to hear him say something like that. 

“Oh,” Nolan mumbles. “Okay, that’s, uh, good?”

Travis smiles at him, “I think so, yeah. You’ll be stuck with me for the rest of your life, man.”

“Great,” Nolan says dryly, “Can’t wait.”

“That’s what I thought, too,” Travis laughs before looking back to the TV.

\---

They lose game four, tying the series two to two. It’s not a great feeling, even for Nolan, and game five is tomorrow. And it’s a morning game at that, so the guys are really not having a good night. Most of the guys go directly to their rooms, meeting with their wives or girlfriends, or catching up with people at home. Nolan is pretty much expecting to go back to his room and crash the second his head hits the pillow, but he steps off the elevator alongside Teeks, and Teeks drags him by the arm into his own hotel room. 

“Hello to you, too, Trav,” Nolan huffs with a soft roll of his eyes as the door to Travis’s room slams shut.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing wrong.” Travis shouts to the walls. He’s teetering on the edge of frenzied anger that Nolan is familiar with from past losses. 

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Nolan tries to reach out for Travis.

Travis goes crazy like this, antsy and barely contained rage, and a heaping side of self hatred for not performing to his own ridiculously high standards. Nolan had talked to Teek’s dad about it, the way he sometimes gets after a particularly bad slump, and Rob had told Nolan it’s just how TK is wired. He’s been this way since he was a teenager, and it never does any good to criticize Travis’ performance. Teeks just needs support in times like this. He doesn't need a play by play analysis of why he missed the breakaway shot. He just needs someone to listen to his frustrations.

“Fourteen games, Nols. I haven’t gotten a puck in the back of a net for fourteen fucking games, and I’m going goddamn insane with it.” Travis tugs a hand into his hair and starts pulling on it.

“Hey,” Nolan says, gathering Travis into his arms, and pulling him onto the bed. They sit next to each other, and Nolan gently pulls Travis’ hand out of his hair, cradling it in his own. “Slumps happen to the best of us, you know it. G’s barely doing any better, and he’s a fucking vet. It’s okay, Teeks.” 

“I just don’t remember hockey ever being this fucking hard.” Travis rushes out, too loud in his hotel room. 

Nolan says nothing, just offers his shoulder as Travis sinks against him. 

“Definitely wasn’t this hard with you on the ice,” Travis mumbles eventually.

“Sure, cause I set you up with fucking awesome assists,” Patty chirps easily.

Travis huffs out a quiet laugh, “Eh, they were alright.”

“Hey, fuck you.” Patty says with no heat behind it. 

They settle into this silence, but Travis is still practically vibrating out of his skin. Nolan splays a heavy hand over Travis’ bouncing knee.

“Sorry,” Trav mutters.

“It’s okay.” Nolan responds, “You just gotta calm down, man.”

Travis starts picking at the skin at the heel of his hand before he says something under his breath.

“Sorry, what, I can’t hear you, Teeks,” Nolan says after.

“Can you, just like, hold me?” Travis asks more clearly, but still quiet.

“What?” Nolan asks.

“Like just, uh, like hug me? While we lay down, maybe?”

Nolan’s lip quirks up at the side, “You can say cuddle, Trav.”

Travis rolls his eyes, “I’m not asking you to fucking cuddle me.” He crosses his arms and huffs, “But maybe, I’m like, not, _not_ asking you to, you know?” 

Nolan laughs quietly, “Sure, Teeks, we can cuddle.” 

Travis changes into a pair of sweats, and Nolan stays in his gym shorts and tee before they both climb under the covers of Travis’ bed. Nolan slides his body up against Travis’ back and places an arm over Travis’ stomach. 

“This okay?” he mumbles.

“Yeah,” Travis breathes deep for the first time since they’d been in the room. He settles back a bit into Nolan to find where he’s most comfortable before he tangles their legs together a bit. “You’re so fucking huge, Pats,” Travis says, his voice kind of in awe. “Just could hide here and no one would see me past your huge fucking body.” 

“Okay, buddy, you’re not that small.” Nolan rolls his eyes. 

“I am,” Travis marvels, “So small.” 

Nolan laughs, “Okay, Trav.”

“Okay,” Trav sighs and grabs hold of Nolan’s arm. 

They settle again, Nolan listening to Travis’ breathing, tracking it as it slowly steadies out and becomes less erratic. 

“You feel good, Nols,” Travis mumbles finally.

“Thanks, Teeks,” Nolan mumbles, too close to Travis’ neck.

“I really like you, ya know?” Travis’ voice sounds far off and kind of dreamy to Nolan.

“Like you too, bud,” Nolan responds easily enough. 

“I mean,” Travis pauses for a moment, then squeezes Nolan's hand, “I really like you.” 

“Okay, Trav.” Nolan says, not catching on at all. 

“Saw Carter bringing you into the bubble, and thought you two were together, god,” Travis huffs, “I was so fucking pissed thinking you were out here dating a teammate, and it wasn’t me. Thought what the fuck? Why wouldn’t it be me?”

Nolan blinks a few times, realization finally setting in at Travis’s words. “You were jealous of Carter?” he eventually asks.

“Hell yeah, I was.” Travis huffs indignantly. “If you’re gonna date a teammate it better be me, right?”

Travis says it like it makes _sense_ and it very much does not make sense to Nolan. Sure, he’s thought about dating Travis before, many times actually, but he’s never considered it an actual possibility. Teammates are off limits. You just don’t end up with your teammate. It’s simple, but Travis, as he usually does, is just here breaking all the rules. 

“I mean, we literally spend all our time together,” Travis is ranting now, “Lived in the same building. Drove to practice together everyday. Were roadie roomies. Like the fuck, that doesn’t mean nothing?” His english is atrocious, and it makes something in Nolan fond a bit too hard. “Talking everyday, chirping, having game rituals, it means something Patty. It’s not nothing. And you don’t have any of that with Hartsy, so what the fuck. I coulda brought you into the bubble.” He huffs out, agitated with himself, and Nolan waits a moment to make sure he’s finished before he laughs so fucking hard his side starts to hurt. His body moves against Travis’, and Nolan just suddenly realizes how fucking stupid they are.

“What the fucks so funny, you asshat?” Travis mutters, clearly annoyed.

Nolan comes down from his laughter and puffs out lingering laughs, “You mean to tell me, you’ve liked me since fucking 2017?” 

Travis doesn’t respond, but his silence is response enough for Nolan.

Nolan laughs again, “Fuck Trav, we’re pretty fucking stupid then, if we’ve both liked each other for three years and just been playing bromance the whole time.”

“We are pretty stupid then.” 

And then, “So you like me too then, Patty?” 

Nolan huffs out, “Yeah, Trav.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yep. Cool.” Nolan mumbles.

And then Travis is snoring, and Nolan thinks, yeah that’s about right. 


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the end of the road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, the goal was to post this in a couple weeks after the flyers won the cup but...alas...here we are at the end of the flyer's cup run. So proud of them, and here's a bit of hopefully happiness for you to soothe the ache of the loss.

Turns out Nolan had everything all wrong. 

Watching his team succeed isn’t hard. It’s really fucking amazing on every level imaginable. That ache of needing to play hockey is still dulling thrumming in the back of his mind but the elation of seeing his boys holding a trophy over their heads and wearing Eastern Conference Championships gear is better than anything he could have imagined since coming to the bubble. There isn’t a even a sliver of bitterness in Nolan’s body as he looks on and see’s how hard these guys have worked to earn the fuck out of that title. 

No one thought they could do it. No one two years ago or even at the beginning of the season would have put the Philadelphia Flyers up as Stanley Cup hopefuls. And here they were now, Eastern Conference Champs and moving on to the fucking finals. There isn’t room for bitterness anymore because all Nolan can feel is this blinding sense of pride. That’s his team. His boys. His family. That fucking made the impossible happen. They’d gone in as underdogs against the Isles and they’d gotten it done. And then again they won the series against the Tampa Bay Lightning Bolts. They’d come back from massive losses and 3-1 deficits and do what they had to do to win. 

And really, truly, Nolan thinks there isn't a feeling better than this, when he sees the boys celebrating on the ice.

And then he thinks it again, how life simply couldn’t get better, when Travis let’s him in his hotel room and kisses him so fiercely against the wall, like Nolan is somehow bigger than anything else that happened that day. 

And for the third time, he thinks, it doesn’t get better than this, when he wakes up the next morning with Trav’s arms around him, and the fact that he'd whispered he loved Nolan into his neck. Because how does life get better? How does he level up from doing what he loves, even if he’s on a temporary hiatus, with the people he loves most, and watching them all succeed while he’s at it. 

But really, maybe Nolan should have expected that he’d be wrong all over again as the next seven games against the Vegas Golden Knights are the most nail biting, stress inducing games he’s ever had to witness. 

Game 1 he remembers wishing he was down there playing on a line with Travis, passing pucks and hitting them deep.

Game 2 he remembers thinking, actually it’s a lot less stressful watching than it is to play.

Game 3 happens, and the guys are down 2-1 in the series and he has this fettering itch to want to fucking do something. 

Game 4 and he can’t fucking sit still as he tracks the pucks down the ice and wishes it were him.

Game 5 and the guys are down 3-1 in the series and they’ve got to have their shit together if they don’t want to go home losers, and Nolan is glad all over again that he’s not the one the ice shouldering that pressure. 

Games 6 he remembers this tiny feeling of hope flaring up in his stomach. 

And then it’s game 7 and him and Ryanne are screaming at the top of their lungs like fucking maniacs the entire game because everything lies on these sixty minutes, and all they can do is watch it unfold. 

And Nolan is wrong about everything because when he sees Travis holding the fucking Stanley Cup over his head and beeming because he’d had a fucking goal in a Stanley Cup final game, well Nolan realizes life gets better. He thinks he’s going to explode with how much he loves Travis Konecny and just how fucking proud he is of him. Proud that he’d overcome that slump and scored for the first time in game 5 against the Isles. And then how he’d kept scoring, and how he’d helped lift the other guys up as he continued to regain his own confidence. How he didn’t keep any of that to himself, but spread it to his teammates because he is a leader even if he doesn’t have a letter on his chest. 

And yeah, Nolan’s name isn’t going to be on the Cup, but he thinks maybe he had to see this happen to the people he loves most to realize how much he’s got to work to get that for himself. And it puts this fire in Nolan’s belly for the first time in the last year because he has this renewed purpose. He’s been so focused about getting back to practice or getting back on the ice, that he hadn’t even allowed himself to strive for the accomplishments he’s really longed for. 

Travis had had to go through his own struggle to get to that point, holding the cup over his head, and Nolan thinks it’s okay that he has to go through his own, too. His timeline’s different, sure, but it’s not any worse. 

And when he and Ryanne and Gavin are allowed on the ice once the broadcast has ended, Nolan slides up to Travis and kisses him. He lets all his emotions bubble over into that kiss and express how fucking ecstatic he is.

He looks at Travis and says, “You did fucking good.”

Travis doesn’t respond, just kisses him again, and looks at Nolan with awe like he can’t believe his life. Nolan can’t believe it either, but he knows, looking into Travis’ eyes now, that there’s no way Travis doesn’t want to do it all over again. He can already see that familiar hunger linger in the depths. It’s that thing Travis tells himself each time he reaches the top, “Now how do I stay here.” And boy did Travis reach the top, and Nolan knows he won’t go down easy. 

“You and me,” Travis shouts over all the music and screams, “Next year. You and me, Patty.” 

“You and me, Teeks.” Nolan mumbles and kisses him again. 

Nolan might actually even believe him. 

**Author's Note:**

> There IS an epilogue and it IS already written so no this isn't "unfinished". It's just, the epilogue has to do with the c*p and I'm not about to jinx shit by posting anything early. So it will be posted either during the c*p finals or at the end of the finals. so subscribe to the fic if you want an email when I put that up :)
> 
> also you can find me on tumblr at @farfrombucky and we can chat about hockey or anything you want! :)


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